To Know You Is To Love You
by forsillyfools
Summary: Drabbles of the Tina C! variety.
1. First Impressions

**AN** : I'm floored by the amazing Artie/Tina fics and I was starting to feel like a bum, sitting around and not contributing anything to the fandom. Even if it's nothing compared to the fics you'll find in my Fave list, here's my take on the friendship/short-lived-but-hopefully-not-coupling that is ArTina. Promptless drabbles.

**Disclaimer** : Glee belongs to not me.

* * *

"So… were you trying to tell us something with your choice of song for the audition? I can't really imagine your boyfriend would be particularly upset to find out his girl likes making out with other girls. At least, I wouldn't mind it."

Tina blinked down at her companion, sitting prim with his hands folded in his lap and bright blue eyes gazing angelically back up at her and she almost doesn't believe that he'd just questioned her sexuality. Or insinuated his tolerance for girl-on-girl action. It's almost endearing, if not for the fact that she really doesn't know this kid (at all) and for all she does know, he's a perv like Jacob Ben Israel.

The way he cracks a smile though, so bright that it's putting Rachel Berry's audition to shame, sort of makes her push away that train of thought. She already regrets putting him in the same category as Jacob.

"Th-th-that's fff-f-for me to know," she manages to whisper between holding back the giggle trying to escape and fixing him with a solid 'Wtf? Did you really just ask me that?' stare as she leans over the back of his wheelchair. She considers not bothering to finish the clichéd phrase but he's still gazing up at her expectantly so she pushes the rest of the words out. "And you to ff-find out."

He gives her a wry smile, adjusts his glasses and then waggles his eyebrows over the frame as she begins to wheel him out, just in time to catch Rachel snipping Mr. Schue for their next rehearsal. This time, she allows the giggle to bubble out of her.


	2. How It Starts

**AN** : Finally, an update. I will say this, I do research for every story that I publish, no matter how short, but my knowledge and resources are still somewhat limited. I know next to nothing about what an SLP really does in a session and I'm pretty much sure it's bad practice not to inform the parents of the child that they're treating but I figure, if Mr Schue can get away with the drugs-in-Finn's-locker dealio, than this is somewhat plausible as well. And if not, thank goodness we live in fanverse.

Also, thank you for the kind reviews/follows/alerts so far, greatly appreciated :)

* * *

Judy knows within the first ten minutes of their hour together that the girl is faking it. She waits another twenty minutes to be dead certain. Afterwards, she makes an 'X' on her pad and scratches out 'avoids all eye contact' in her fine-point Sharpie and finally rests her notes on the coffee table between them, letting out a small breath.

And in that moment, Tina knows too. She just has to glance over once to see that this lady, whose life's work is to study and help people with _real_ speech problems, knows that it's all a lie. In that split second, she observes the downturn of the woman's lips and the worry lines creasing her forehead. She can't be older than her auntie Vicky who's twenty four.

Tina's quiet resolve finally caves and she inhales sharply. Her vision blurs and it's not until after the first drop falls from her cheek that she makes a sound.

"Please… please don't tell my parents."

Judy glances down at the girl, her back so slouched that it almost looks like she's trying to shrink into herself. Like maybe if she curls in enough, her body will swallow itself and she'll disappear from existence, a self-initiated black hole sequence straight out of the Twilight Zone.

"Tina?"

Judy tries to match her tone with the girl's mousy whisper. Tina self-consciously pulls at the hem of her shirt, trying to stretch it so the slight roll of baby fat along her stomach is less noticeable. She rubs at her eyes with self-loathing. Everything about the way she moves is anxiety, insecurity and shame in living, breathing form.

"You have to listen, okay Tina?" She pauses, waiting for some form of acknowledgement, inwardly sighing with relief when the crown of shiny black hair bobs once. It's enough. "I'm not going to tell your parents," Judy says slowly, fighting off the urge to swallow her next words before they form because suddenly, the sixth-grader in front of her has lifted her head and is wearing the most hopeful expression she's ever seen. It just about crushes her to continue. "Not yet."

And just like that, the hope is replaced with a gut-wrenching despair, so wrong on such an innocent face.

Judy is young too. She's in her second year of internship for the Speech-Language Pathology program at the University of Toledo, a good hour and a half away. This is her first time working in the public school caste and her heart is easily swayed. She knows there are forms to fill out, recordings to assess but now, right now, all she wants to do is help this girl.

Besides, it'll only be a few weeks. Maybe a month or two? It's middle school and it's so easy to let cruel words and crueller looks get the best of one's self.

"Because Tina, sweetie, I need _you_ to tell your parents. You don't have to do it right now. You don't have to do it tomorrow but _you _have to be the one to say when that time comes. Until then, you just talk to me, okay? Tell me what you think of Lima North. Tell me what makes you happy, sad, what makes you confident… and then one day, you can tell me why you're doing this." Judy's stomach lurches but she tries to calm her nerves and still the sudden twitch that has developed in her left leg. It doesn't go unnoticed but when she gazes across the table, there are a pair of sad, dark eyes peering back at her.

_"Whenever you're ready."_

It takes Tina four years.


	3. Been There

**AN** : Thank you for the encouraging words. One brief moment in Bad Reputation spawned this drabble.

* * *

In the afternoon following the 'Run Joey Run' fiasco, Tina found a new song stuck to her locker, two shiny kitty stickers holding it in place. 'New song to be practiced later, with Mr Schuester's approval', but it's clearly marked in Rachel's penmanship.

There isn't a tray of apology cookies, and nobody actually brings the sheet music with them, but the significance of the song looms over most of the group as they enter the choir room.

See, that's how it works with them: they all sing because they don't know what else to say, because music is the only medium they can use to express the weight of their feelings.

Tina thinks Rachel understands this concept better than any of them.

As Brad plucks out the haunting introduction and Finn's baritone fills the silence, the first name she gives the listless feeling in her stomach is discomfort. This performance is too intimate, like something the rest of the club shouldn't be seeing but it's playing out in front of them regardless. Between the pleading glances, the desperation in the soprano's voice... maybe it's simply because it's Rachel, and everything that encompasses her is bathed in spotlight, even her turmoil.

When everyone begins to leave, filtering out of the choir room after Finn, Tina can't help but gaze across the way at the petite brunette standing by the piano. In that second, the feeling in her stomach changes to sympathy. Her expression softens and Tina gently rests her hand on the handle of Artie's wheelchair, letting herself be pulled out the door. This scene is all too familiar and even though she's stepped out of the room, she knows exactly how it will play out.

Eyes will meet but there won't be anything there to see but hurt. Then someone walks - _or wheels_ - away, and one person is left standing there, stricken with a helpless sense of loss and shame and loneliness.

Tina knows exactly how it will play out.

(The next day, she sits with Rachel during study block. She doesn't initiate conversation and they don't exchange any words, but Rachel leaves her open notebook in plain view so Tina can copy the answers to the review sheet she didn't finish yesterday.)


End file.
